The Color White
by Konsui's Little Brother
Summary: Every color has a meaning and the nations know that. Out of all the colors, they know the truth behind the color white the most. It means that a nation is about to dissapear completely. Canada's paper has been white for centuries.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I know, I know, I should be off updating my other stories. But this is what I ended up writing when I sat down today. A random idea inspired by a random quote: _White is the color that forgot itself, much like myself_. I don't think that this is my best work but maybe you all will think otherwise!

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><p>For every nation, there is a single color. One that represents everything about that particular nations country, all bundled up into one shade, one tone. Russia is a deep purple, much like the hue of the sky right before midnight. Japan is represented by the warmest shade of orange that one could think of.<p>

Sometimes, depending on how the country is doing and how it's government is run, the color will change. In the beginning, back before the wars, Russia was a light yellow. Japan, when he still lived with China, was a shade of burnt umber.

Because the color speaks so much about what is going on in that country, once every five years, there is a meeting to discuss what color the nations associate themselves with. If there's a drastic change, even when the news has yet to cover the situation causing it, then it lets the other nations know that something is up.

Usually something bad.

These colors are identified by slips of paper. Special paper. Pure white paper that, when touched by a nation, changed its color.

This year, Japan was hosting the meeting. All of the nations, micro-nations and former nations included, had already arrived at the hotel it was being held at. A massive twenty story building, on which the top floor had been cleared out so they wouldn't be bothered.

And everything seemed to be going good. Or as good as it could, what with all the natural disasters that had hit in the last few years and everyones economy going down hill so rapidly.

America's blue, for freedom and the ocean that he crossed when he left England, had dulled some. The money issues that his country was having, just on the verge of being a national crisis, had taken a toll on it. The earthquakes in D.C., followed almost immideatly by Hurricane Irene, hadn't helped. But he was still vibrant and bright and not going to fall, no matter what those nasty European nations said.

The earthquake, and the tsunami and the explosions and the nuclear radiation that was still being taken care of, had drowned out the warmth of Japan's orange. A pale yellow, like the sun when it was just starting to rise, had taken its place. But it would brighten again, and everyone knew that, so no one was worried.

It wasn't until Canada, pushed to the front of the room by Kumajirou, pulled out his slip of paper that the laughter and banter being traded came to a stop.

Because Canada's paper hadn't changed colors.

"Mattie?" America was the first to speak, face scrunched up in confusion and slight worry in his tone.

Canada didn't answer. The piece of paper, still just as white as before his fingers touched it, was pocketed and he made his way back to his seat. In silent. Face downturned and light colored bangs hanging in front of his soft violet eyes, mouth a perfect line.

When he sat down, still silent, Kumajirou jumped into his lap. The small, white bear put a paw against the nations chest and peered up at him. "Who?"

"I'm Canada." No response from the bear but the Northern Nation didn't seem to be interested in going into more detail. Honestly, at that exact moment, he didn't think he'd be able. His name was right there, on the tip of his tounge, and he knew what it was. It was Mathew. Mathew Williams.

It just didn't seem to fit him anymore.

"Who?" Kumajirou asked again, more irate sounding then the first time he spoke. He didn't like it when Canada didn't tell him exactly who he was. It meant that the issues his master suffered were getting worse, that he was going downhill.

It took a few seconds, and America trying to catch his near-twin's attention, before Canada uttered out a quiet, "Mathew."

"Kanada." Germany pursed his lips together, sharp blue eyes locking onto the True North, as he leaned foreward in his seat. He folded his hands on the table in front of him, a futile attempt to dissuade Italy from hanging off of them. "What is wrong with your paper?"

"Yeah, dude. Isn't your country supposed to be, like purple?" America could've sworn that last time they did this Canada's slip had turned purple. He remembered because he'd thought it was weird that his baby bro, as Canada would forever be reffered to when the American thought about him, had almost the same exact color as Russia.

Kumajirou sent what could only be described as a dissaproving look towards the American nation. "Idiot."

"Don't be mean, Kumachika." Canada muttered. He ran a pale hand across his pets white fur, ignoring the glare that was sent to him by said polar bear, before shifitng to look at his American twin. "Yes, Al. It used to be purple."

"What's with the color change then?" America asked. If something had happened in Canada recently, he should have heard about it! Their two countries were so close with each other, so friendly, anything that could have brought about such a huge change in his brother's slip of paper should have been all over the American news!

The fact that it hadn't changed colors at all didn't even register with him.

"I think," England said. "that it's the lack of change we should be concerned with. I don't think I've ever seen this paper not change its color! Mathew, lad, what's the matter?"

Canada gave a small shrug. At the moment, nothing was the matter. Nothing that hadn't been happening for the last few centuries, at least. "I'm fine, Arthur."

"Right." Gilbert snorted. "Of course you're fine. So fuckin' believable. Your paper wouldn't be white like that if you were 'fine', Birdie."

The other nations were too busy staring at Prussia, surprised that he'd given any sort of imput into the conversation, to notice how Canada shifted just slightly in his seat. To notice when the Northern nation's eyes shined, for just a moment, with something that hadn't been there since he was just a colony. To see the approving nod that Kumajirou gave Prussia, who was still staring at Canada with impassive red eyes.

"Bruder? What are you talking about now?" Germany questioned, voice only slightly annoyed. The heavy silence that seemed to have settled over the room snapped then, and several of the nations gave the albino annoyed looks.

"Geez, West. Don't you remember anything?" Prussia rolled his eyes at his brother before returning to staring at Canada. The younger nation squirmed under the gaze but said nothing, violet eyes falling down to look at the floor. "Right before you all decided I wasn't 'fit to be a nation' anymore, my paper turned white. Then I died."

"It did?" China peered across the table at Prussia. "I think...I think I remember that, aru. You don't have a color anymore either."

"Nope." The Prussian leaned back in his seat, turning an accusing gaze to England. "So why don't you tell me why his papers white, Artie? Gonna give his land to someone else too?"

"Wh-what?" England sputtered, cheeks flaring red in embarressment. "Of course not! Don't say things that obviously aren't true, you git!"

"Then what's with the blank paper, huh?" Prussia demanded of the European nation. He didn't actually think England would even think of doing that to Canada but, attacking someone clearly innocent, had always been the easiest way to get Canada's attention.

And it worked. Only a few more traded insults later, Canada muttered something under his breath.

"What was that, Birdie?" Prussia asked, completely forgetting the nasty name he had been about to hurl at England.

"I said it's not England's fault." Canada repeated. He was loud enough to be heard this time but his voice was still soft. Still quiet.

In his lap, Kumajirou snorted. "Liar."

"Kumataki!" Canada scolded. Why was his bear doing this right now? Kumajirou knew why Canada had never brought it up to anyone! They'd spoken about it just the day before, to make sure his bear knew that nothing was going to be said about! "Hush!"

"Come out with it, Birdie. How long's your paper been like that?" Prussia's had changed to white three months before the decision was made. Three months before his status as a nation was destroyed and his land was given to his brother. And something told him that Canada's had been that way longer than just a few months.

Canada didn't speak for a few moments. He pulled his bottom lip into his mouth, biting down on it hard enough that he could taste blood. It was only when Kumajirou nudged his hand that he spoke. "It turned white three years after World War Two. I think...I'm sorry. I don't really remember exactly."

If anything had ever been uttered at one of the meetings that brought so many of the nations hearts to a stop before, no one could remember it. At that moment, no one even cared to remember it. They might not remember the Northern nation very often, or noticed him when he spoke, but that didn't mean they didn't care for him.

In fact, many of the other nations held Canada very close to their hearts.

To think that something had been so horribly wrong with the young nation for so long and they hadn't noticed it...What sort of things had they ignored? What sort of problems had their little Canada been facing that meant his very expierence was being threatened?

"What the hell do you mean since World war Two?" Prussia barked out, eyes widening. How the hell had Canada stayed a nation if his paper was white for so long? The thought was only in his head for a moment before his eyes were drawn, almost of their own accord, to the white bear perched in Canada's lap.

And Kumajirou stared right back at him, button like eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Bout time you all noticed."

"It's not their fault, Kumachacha." Canada muttered. It was clear his heart wasn't in it though.

Again, Kumajirou tilted his head up to stare at his master. "Liar. Tell truth. Now."

"Yes, Mon Lapin, please tell us what is wrong?" France' reached across the table, nearly elbowing England in the head when he did, and grasped onto the hand Canada wasn't petting Kumajirou with.

And no nation could deny that the startled look on Canada's face when they nodded in agreement, throwing out their own questions about his problems, made their stomaches twist.

It wasn't until Prussia said "please", something that few nations knew was even in his vocabulary, that Canada seemed to snap back down to reality. But he didn't know what to say. That never being acknowledged was putting a stop to his existance? That, because he was almost never allowed to speak about his countries well-being at the meetings, he had started to fade? That, more often then not, even he found himself wondering if he had the right to stay a nation anymore?

But all that seemed like it would place blame on the other nations so, like he did so very often, he kept it to himself. Instead, he gave a small shrug and told a half truth. "I think it's just that white's the color that forgot itself. Like me."

Confused looks a plenty were given to him and Canada suddenly realized how stupid that sounded to anyone that didn't usually listen to his half-baked theories and seldom heard thoughts. Which meant just about everyone at the table.

Pale face turning red with embarresment, Canada ducked his head and tugged Kumajirou closer to his stomache. "S-sorry..." The words came out mumbled, almost unhearable, as he pressed his mouth to his polar bears fur.

"What are you saying 'sorry' for, Birdie?" Prussia asked, rolling his eyes. "If anything it's all of us that should be apologizing to you. Isn't that right?" The last words were sharper then the rest of his sentence, just daring anyone to say other wise.

No one did. In fact, most of the nations nodded their agreement. What Canada said didn't make sense to them but...The blond nation wouldn't need to say anything right now if they had paid attention to him sooner.

"C'mon, Mattie. Tell us what we can do to help!" Alfred stuck his lower lip out, giving his brother the best pleading look he could form.

"Tell the truth." Kumajirou prompted again, tilting his head up so he could look at Canada.

The nation looked like he'd rather be anywhere but there. Canada had always wanted to be noticed, needed and craved to be noticed, but not like this. Not when everything that he said would put such blame on the others; upset them maybe or make them angry, neither of which he wanted.

No. Right then, Canada just wanted to go back to his little house in Yukon and curl up on the couch for a while. He just wanted to go back to being unnoticed and let the others figure it out on their own; something that would never happen and he knew would never happen.

But the other nations kept asking him to explain what he meant and Prussia was still giving him that _look_. And Canada couldn't just ignore them, could he? No...No, he couldn't. So he bit down on his bottom lip again, teeth digging into the soft flesh, and risked a half-glance up.

Everyone was looking at him.

Everyone was listening to him.

It was weird.

"W-well...I..." Canada gave a small shrug, tightening his grip on his pet. "I'm...I'm sorry, I don't know how to explain."

Prussia frowned when the spectacled nation lowered his eyes to the table. "Just say what's wrong. Simple as that."

But I don't want any of you to get upset, is what Canada wanted to say. Instead, he just let himself sink further into the seat and in a voice quieter than normal explained to the best that he could. "I'm just not very noticable, I guess. I mean, I know that I don't have as many problems as you all do and that's why you all don't let me speak but...I guess that sort of makes it like I'm not a real nation."

There was so much more to it than that though. There was the fact that he was never spoken to during the meetings, never seen or heard. That he was often forgotten when the invitations went out for events and gallas that the nations were to attend. That, the less he was acknolwedged by the rest of the world, the less he was acknowledged by his government, by his people, and by his land.

That he knew, from conversations with General Winter and the natives of his land and just from watching history, that soon not even Kumajirou would be able to keep him tethered to the earthly realm.

Canada didn't think that he'd be able to say all of that though. It was hard enough to tell them what he'd already said. Not because he didn't mean or that he didn't want to say it, because he did.

He was just worried that saying it all out loud...Oh, he didn't even know what the problem was anymore. Canada had just gone so long dealing with his problems on his own that he didn't know how to let the other nations in. And, already, he could feel the anger towards himself well up because _for once_ everyone was paying attention to him and he wasn't saying _anything_!

And the anger that Canada felt towards himself was mirrored in the other nations. They didn't understand everything going on in their northern friends mind but they saw enough flashing through his violet eyes. They were ignorant after all, not stupid.

"Mattie..." America started, only to be cut off by the Prussia slamming his fist into the table.

"Damnit, Birdie, you should have spoke up sooner then! The awesome me would have no trouble making sure all these losers don't forget about you!" Prussia shouted. Some of the other nations frowned at him, Ludwig rolled his eyes, but it wasn't them the Prussian's red eyes were focused on.

It was Canada.

And the small flicker of hope on the other's face was more than enough to quell the annoyance he felt towards the others; they might forget later on about what happened here today but Prussia knew that there was no way he would ever be able to.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Before I say anything of too much importance, I want to let you all know that this was only supposed to be a one-shot. I accidently hit the 'unfinished' button instead of the 'finished' button when I published the last chapter. Before I could go and change it, though, I had so many of you wonderful people adding it to Story Alert and Favorites that I just couldn't not give you another chapter! And then, when I started writing this part, it all sort of spiraled out of control...My one-shot is now going to be a three-shot! I hope everyone enjoys reading it and that it doesn't seem drug out or anything. Enjoy!

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><p>Just like Canada had expected, by the time the meeting was over the rest of the nations had already gone back to their lives. Lives in which Canada was non-existent and unimportant.<p>

And that was fine because Canada was used to it.

At least, that's what he told himself when he crawled out of bed that morning. What he insisted as he checked the messages on his phone; one wrong number and nothing else. What he said allowed when he started mixing the pancake batter up and digging through the cabinets for his maple syrup.

As he made his way through the kitchen, pulling out a plate for himself and a plate for Kumajirou, Canada repeated the words in his mind like a mantra. It was fine. He hadn't really been expecting them to change anything.

That wasn't how the other nations were.

Unless something was being waved right in front of their faces, it was pushed to the backs of their minds. France was like that. England was like that. America was certainly like that; unless it was McDonalds, as that was one thing his brother could never forget about.

Flipping the last pancake from the plate to the pan, Canada turned off the stove and settled in at his table. A healthy portion of syrup was dumped onto his plate, with just a few drops put on Kumajirou's before it was sat on the floor for the small polar bear, and then he was digging in.

Just like always, the sicky sweet breakfast concoction seemed to just wash away all of the worries he'd woken up with.

Before the small nation could really settle down though, a loud ring sounded through his house. Wrinkling his nose, eyebrows furrowing and lips pulling down into a confused out when he did, Canada laid his syrup covered fork back down on the plate. "What the..."

It took a few minutes for the northern nation to realize that it was the doorbell ringing.

When he did though, Canada pushed himself out of his seat so quickly that the chair rocked and barely stayed upright. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a visitor!

Suddenly glad that he'd chosen a smaller house, at least compared to the one that most nations lived in, Canada rushed out of the kitchen and to the front door. Out of breath, he leaned against the wood for a moment to catch his breath. Whoever was ringing it was probably gone by now...

And the music to his countries national anthem, played all in bells, rang out through the house again. The young nation jumped, fumbled with the lock on the door for a moment, and then pulled it open.

"I-i'm so sorry it took so long to get he-Prussia?" Canada blinked, letting his arm drop down to his side. What was he doing here? If anything, the northern nation had been expecting some Girl Scouts or, if he was lucky, a messenger from his government. Certainly not the ex-nation now standing in front of him.

"Hey, Birdie. What ya doing this fine morning?" Gilbert asked, leaning against the side of the door. What was with the surprised look? Did Canada really think that after everything that was said yesterday, he was just going to be forgotten so easily? Right. That wasn't going to happen. Prussia would make sure of it.

Grabbing onto the shorter nations arm, Prussia tugged Canada out of the house. "Listen, I know I didn't actually speak with you about it yesterday but I got caught up. West wanted the awesome me to tag along with him over to his government office so he could hand in his paper. I figured we'd spend the day out though? Just you, me, and some beer!"

"Wa-wait!" Canada just barely managed to grab onto the handle of his front door and pull it shut behind him as he was drug off. "Gilbert, what are you doing?"

Prussia snorted. "What do you think I'm doing? Taking you to the car!" The albino tugged his northern friend down the cobble-stone and towards his car. His nice, shiny, powder blue prius

Oh, how he loved his prius. Germany, who preferred a black punch buggy over the sleek contours of the sports car, mocked him some times for it; for the long hours that Prussia spent scrubbing down and polishing the car, making sure everything was in the top-most conditions they could be in and throwing a fit when they weren't. And, next to Canada's beat up red pick-up truck, Prussia found himself loving it even more.

A Local Cafe, several hours later

"So..." Prussia waved his biscotti in front of him, not caring that he was leaving a trail of crumbs on the table. It would give the waitress something to do later anyways. Let the snotty girl earn her tip. "What do you think?"

On the other side of the booth, sitting not quite across from him, Canada blinked. The northern nation sat his own confection down on his plate and tilted his head at the albino. "About what?"

Prussia rolled his eyes. "Well, duh, Birdie! About our awesome day so far! I've got a bunch of other stuff planned, of course, but I think it's all been going pretty well so far."

Except for when the security guard at the mall they'd stopped at earlier had caught Prussia trying to shop-lift. And Canada had to pay for the watch. Which the other nation had insisted was fine but still...What sort of a Super Awesome Day Out included having to pay for your dates stolen goods?

"I-it's been really nice, Gilbert." Canada mumbled into his tea; black chai tea with just a smidge of cream added to it. The blond didn't look up either, preferring to look at the swirls in the wood on the table before them.

The truth of the matter was that Canada was having one of the best days he could remember. The last time that he'd gone out with another nation, when he hadn't forcefully reminded them of plans they'd previously made, was way back when he was still a colony under England. When he'd first been taken from France and America had decided to 'be a hero', they'd both run off and explored the nearby town.

Since then...It had been a struggle to get anyone to see him let alone go out somewhere with him. Occasionally, he was able to drag America to a hockey game or he'd convince Egypt to come over for a cooking session, but that was it.

"Thank you for bringing me out..." Mathew took a small sip of his tea, relishing the way the almost bitter flavor washed over him, and gave the ex-nation a small smile.

And Prussia felt his heart flutter. "No problem, Birdie. You didn't think I was just gonna leave ya be after yesterday, did you?"

Canada didn't tell him that, yes, he thought he'd be alone again. That seeing the albino on the other side of the door that morning had been the biggest surprise in a long time. Nor did he tell the other boy he was still waiting for Prussia to walk off to do something and never come back.

It came through in his eyes though, in the way he wasn't looking at Prussia. In the way his grip tightened on his plain white mug ever so slightly. How his lips pulled into a thing, strained looking smile.

And Prussia felt his heart plummet.

Cocky grin dropping from his face, what was left of his cookie-stick falling onto the plate in front of him, Prussia pursed his lips at Canada. "Seriously? You thought that I was just gonna forget everything that was said?"

Squirming in his seat, Canada gripped his mug even tighter. This was why he didn't say things. Either the person he spoke to felt guilty or got mad and, while it was often right that they felt guilty, the northern nation hated knowing he'd made them feel that way. After all, he didn't like the way guilt weighed down his heart and made his mind spin. Why would they?

Not sure what else to say, the Canadian muttered a soft apology. "I'm sorry...I just...I didn't think it would make much of a difference."

"Not make much of a difference? Gott, there really is something wrong with you isn't there?" Prussia exclaimed, throwing one hand up in the air. "Didn't I already tell you that we're the ones who should be apologizing?"

There wasn't a response, save for the True North moving both hands into his lap and looking away.

"Mathew." Prussia stated, all joking gone from his voice. Words just as stern and insistent as they had been the night before, at the meeting. "That's not going to happen. None of us want you to disappear! We're all just really, I dunno, ignorant. Things are going to be different though, I promise."

And Canada wanted to believe the albino, really he did, but there were so many things wrong there. So many promises that had spawned from that very thought that had already been broken, too many that had left his heart and his will shattered. Words were just words, after all, not oaths that one had to live by. Just things to placate someone with.

Canada hated that.

But, still, he said nothing. Aside from a small shrug, the northern nation didn't do anything either. Hands were kept in his lap and eyes firmly to the table.

Prussia wondered just how much damage had been done already. How much of it he could fix. Because he was going to try and fix the younger boy, to save him. In a weeks time, Prussia would prove that to the blond. Prove that he was worth being remembered and spoken to and loved.

"I was an ass for not remembering you before, especially since I know what that feels like." And it was a horrible feeling. As if, no matter what was said or done, no one could even see you standing there. Prussia's first few months after being merged fully with his older brother had been filled with that. "I'm so, so sorry."

Canada's head snapped up, violet eyes wide, to give Prussia an open mouth stare. "Wh-what? No! No don't be sorry! I-it's not your fault, Gilbert. I know that you all don't do it on purpose."

"Stop saying it's not our faults!" Prussia snapped, smacking one hand down on the top of the table. "We don't do it on purpose but we still do it! And we should be sorry! I should be sorry." His voice dropped down to a tone mirroring Canada's normal voice, quiet and filled with so much regret.

The northern nation winced as the hand was brought down on the table-top. "Gilbert..."

Prussia sighed and ran a hand through his hair, tugging hard when his pale fingers got caught in a large tangle. "Never mind...This is so un-awesome to talk about. Let's just head back to your house, alright?"

Cup of cocoa long empty, Gilbert grabbed the remaining chunk of biscotti and shoved it in his mouth as he got up. Still irritated but done with the conversation. It wasn't as if speaking about it to Canada was going to do anything. The smaller nation seemed determined to insist it wasn't the other nations fault, which it was, and refuse to explain what was wrong.

Which was fine for now. Eventually, Prussia would drag it out of the boy.

And, as Canada stood up and followed the albino up to the counter to pay, the blond couldn't help but wonder if it might just be better to tell him. It was what Prussia wanted, obviously, but even the thought of saying it aloud to someone that wasn't Kumajirou made his stomach churn. Canada had been hurt the last time he'd tried to tell someone; though to be fair to England it was right America gained his freedom and the northern nation should have known that his father wouldn't be paying attention.

He didn't want to be hurt again. But...Maybe it would be different this time?


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Alright everyone! This is the final chapter for _The Color White_! Give me a cheer because it's one of the only multi-chapter stories that I have _ever_ finished! Unfortunatly, it's not the best and the chapter's end is sort of...Well, it made me wonder if I should have ended this last chapter. Or maybe even with the first chapter and just kept it a one-shot. The thing is, happy-endings aren't really my thing. In fact, I very rarely do happy _anything_. So this was a pretty big change for me. Not to mention it's only my second time ever writing Prussia so I've been obssesing about keeping him In Character.

I hope you all enjoy this story, and this ending, more than I do!

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><p>Upon entering Mathew's house, Gilbert had not hesitated to demand he be made pancakes for dinner. The blond had just given him a smile and dissapeared into the kitchen, asking him to go and check on Kumajirou.<p>

_"Make sure he didn't wreck the living room, eh?"_

So, with a laugh, Gilbert had taken his own route through the Canadian's home. Which was how he found himself sitting on the floor, red eyes narrowed, next to the small bear.

Kumajirou had been sprawled out on a large, red pillow on the couch watching a cooking show on the tv. After a quick glance around the room, Gilbert decided that the house was still in pretty decent condition. At least, he didn't think that there was anything broken or missing. It _had_ been several years since the albino last entered the Canadians abode.

Or...Was it longer than that? Prussia remembered streets filled with smog and gunshots in the background and a blond haired nation that smiled through it all.

Now, Prussia had to wonder how much of that smile had been faked and how badly hurt Canada really was that day. When did that day even take place? He honestly couldn't remember, and that brought a frown to his face and guilt swirling in his stomach.

It was with that thought in his mind that Prussia had attempted to sit down on the couch. Very nearly loosing his hand in the process.

"Not for you." Kumajirou growled at him, sharp teeth showing.

So Prussia, not wanting to loose a finger or anything more vital, settled for sitting on the floor. He stared at the show, watching as the chefs ran around and tried to make full meals before the timer stopped, but didn't really watch it.

His mind was elsewhere.

On darker times.

Times when the streets of what used to be his country were filled with blood and pain. When his own slip of paper had started to change color. From it's original dark shade of blue to the deep crimson of blood shed. The sickly green hue it took on when his people started to die to the grey it changed to right before the wall was tore down. And then, when it turned white, everyone was just content to sit back and let him dissapear from existance.

Oh, Germany had tried to stop the decision, sure. But that didn't mean much. No one really cared what the large, blond had to say. They were just as furious with Germany as they were with Prussia.

When England decided to just destroy Prussia's status as a nation...The slip of papers last change was finally made clear. White meant he was to give up, to go away, and be forgotten.

His younger brother remembering him wouldn't be enough to keep him alive forever. Everyday, Prussia's ties to the world got thinner and thinner. Everyday, he walked down to breakfast and Germany would look at him like it was a surprise he'd made it down the stairs.

Near the end, it had been.

Then, one day, Prussia woke up feeling just as powerful as he always had. One day, he walked downstairs and saw Germany thanking a vaguely familar blond. Later that evening, Prussia was told that the blond was Canada and a part of the northern countries land had just been named after him.

Prussia's paper stayed white but, because he was never forgotten, he never faded.

His brother and Canada, though it was no doubt mostly Canada's donation of the land now titled New Prussia, had kept him alive and kicking. And how had he repaid the northern nation? By letting him go through the same ordeal with nothing but a polar bear to keep him anchored to the world of the living, by forgetting him unless he needed something, by letting him stay isolated even when he tried so hard to be seen.

The realization made Prussia sick.

When Canada came into the room, the scent of freshly cooked pancakes drifting after him and the smallest of smiles on his face, Prussia wasted no time in jumping from his seat. Crossing the room quick as he could, the albino wrapped his arms around Canada and tugged the younger nation into the tightest of hugs.

"I am so sorry, Birdie. Gott, you have no idea how sorry I am!" Prussia pulled Canada close to him, resting his chin against blond hair and blinking hard to clear suddenly blurry vision. "I promise you...I promise, I will never, ever forget you again!"

Prussia meant it too. He would never forget the northern nation and he would do his damndest to keep everyone else from just looking through Canada.

For a moment, Canada stiffened. The arms suddenly flung around him made him freeze, his heart stop, and his stomach drop. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been hugged; but he could, and it was so long ago that thinking about it did nothing but bring up memories filled with hurt and a time when America never forgot who he was.

Prussia didn't pull away though. In fact, when he realized how tense the hug made Canada, he just sqeezed tighter and murmured faster. Things Canada thought he would never hear again. Things that, though he really didn't believe when Prussia said 'never', made his eyes start to burn and his chest start to ache.

And when, eventually, a sobbing Canada finally leaned into the hug, the whispers stopped and Prussia just stood there in silence; and in the background, Kumajirou let out a quiet "about time."


End file.
